Fondness
by cryingbehindsunglasses
Summary: This fondness kept her close, it was her saving grace. It was also his weakness.


_Based on the prompt on Tumblr I was sent _

_Prompt: Bellatrix has done something wrong (idk what) and Voldemort must punish her in front of the Death Eaters. But it's gotta end with Bellamort love! Yeah... that's all I have. lol. Sent by voldies-horcrux._

_**I do not own Harry Potter all right go to their respected owners.**  
_

* * *

Trembling as she herd the anger and disappointment in his voice. The anger that had just boiled over and erupted in a typical fashion. She had never heard him this mad before, at least not this mad at her. Her lord had broken of in to a manic rage the moment the news had been uttered from her own lips. His anger had crashed down and crushed her slightly. The disappointment he never tried to hide hurt her more than the punishments had. She felt like a disgrace, to let her lord down so badly, she was a Black, they were made for greatness not failure.

Hearing the booming voice of her lord bounce of the darkened wooden panelled walls that made up the ancient Malfoy manor. He load had been staying her whilst he plotting again that boy.

It wasn't really her fault she was here, no it was mainly down to that fob of a man Rabastan. No she could never fail here load in such a way. It had been a simple mission really. To kill some lower minister she had never heard of, some mood blood. Even the word alone sent a shiver of disgust up her spine. The mission had been to silence the mud blood. But due to a little unanticipated trouble. The stupid little thing got away.

Eyes flicking from the floor back up to her lord, his eyes had turned in to glaring rubies trained on the shaking figure that she made up. They were not alone in the room. The large meeting room was packed to the brim. It disgusted her that filthy creatures such as Greyback were able to see her so…weak. She would have snarled if not for the disgruntled face of her lord was not etched up in front of her.

She could feel scorning eyes upon her. Some enjoying seeing her in such a position some even laughing, to see the great Bellatrix LeStrange fall from the graces of their lord. She could see the mirth in the eyes of some of them, the muttering and giggles of those she had once mocked for such pathetic failure.

She hated letting him down in such away, the hard words he threw out to her wounded her like a thousand knifes, she hated letting her lord down in any way.

She was flung from her thoughts by a soaring pain in her chest, it spread through her body like fire. She fell to the cool marble floor. Her body convulsing under the intensity of his spell. Every muscle in her body a lite with a mixture of furious stabbing and burning. She felt the curse take over her body, moving her limps like a puppet to its master .

She herd a high pitched laugh soar above the ruckus of the room. The noise was inhuman, unholy. But at the same times set of a different kind of burning inside her. Her body began to shake as her vision began to fade and black out to nothing as a holy voice rung out above the darkness.

"Now you see this is the punishment that awaits you if you cannot follow orders." He said delivering one harsh kick to the dark body on the floor, before sweeping out the room in a flurry of black capes.

Feeling the bringing simmer down she felt the ability to breathe come back to her slowly. Everyone was gone. From the looks of it they had gone a while ago. Feeling the familiar burn of the crutiatus cures on her skin her mind reeled back to her earlier failure. How could she let that filthy little mud blood get away. She pushed her feet of the bitterly cold marble of the flour. Rising up to see the bodies of her "helpers" disbursed around the room. She snarled at spat in the face of one Rabastan LeStrange she didn't care in he was her brother in law he was the reason for their failure that night. He was the reason for the dark hate she saw from her lord. The man she adored above all else. She crossed the room quickly with no disregard for the others in the room alive or not.

She all but crawled to grand and pompous stairs of the manor to the top floor where her lord resided . She supposed the stairs in her right mind would have been a great metaphor for Malfoy, useless and pompous.

She tried to gain some sort of composure from her still seizuring body. She timidly knocked on the large wooden door which stood inbetween her and her lord.

"Enter." Permitted a strong stoic voice.

"Milord. I just wish to apologise for the mishap earlier." She said slowly stepping over the fresh hold and in to the room. It was bleak with only a large desk.

"You do?" Came a cold voice from across the room. He had yet to turn to her, she felt her eyes fall to the floor in shame.

"Yes milord. I-it shall never happen again."

"Oh really?" The tone was harsher and colder that even the one that had proceeded it.

He finally turned face cold and composed. She dropped to her knees instantly.

"How do I not know you have become useless? This is your second mistake. You do remember the little "mishap" at the ministry, do you not Bellatrix?"

Shaking as tears clouded her eyes, as she thought back to the night of the ministry. She would have gone back to Askaban for her failures that night if not for her lord. She could feel disappointment coming of him in waves as eyes which had been trained on him as if by a magnet fell to the ground with deep shame.

"I-I do my lord. But it will never happen again. I promise."

"Now now Bella. We mustn't make promises we cannot keep." He was tauntingly to him. He pushed her away before going of to another part of the Malfoy mansion. He didn't turn around to the snivelling mess of black fabrics on the floor.

He sat in his great arm chair centre piece to his bedroom of course there was a bed, but he had little use for it as sleep was for mortals and muggles. He sat as if a king on his throne stroking Nagini as he mumbled to the silver snake which hissed slightly in appreciation. He had lost a fair few death eaters today, not from the raids in which they had been sent but at his own hands. Their failure could not be stood for. He didn't need failures such as that in his midst. But Bella, his Bella. He knew she had not been the same since she had came from Askaban. She was weak. She had once been his grand piece she had been exhilarating to watch in action . But lately she had fallen from grace. Yet he could not be rid of her. He mulled over these thoughts. How was it she was still here? He couldn't be fond of her could he? He said disgust covering deathly pale snakelike features. No, fondness and other such attachments were for muggle lovers such as that heathens such as Dumbledore. No. He could not be fond of Bellatrix, no feeling such as that were for the weak. The diseased. No emotions showed weakness.

Bellatrix had fallen in to her quarters at the manor heart full of disgrace at herself. At the fact she had let her lord down. His cruel words had left more scars that the punishment he had set. His words each like a dagger to her fragile hear, a heart that had been frozen over years ago. But that held only him dear. She feel to sleep curled up as a child would once they had been scolded by a parent. Hair fanned across black silk pillows curled and matted.

He crossed the boundary in to the dark room, he guessed there had been a candle once, but it had burnt down an blazed in to a Smokey nothing. Leaving the room in darkness. He noted she was asleep as he had hoped. Leaning down to grace pale sleep flushed checks with gentle movement of bone like figures. He pushed away midnight black locks whish had cover her face, to expose a small amount of skin, he then pressed almost non-existent lips down on to her forehead.

"Sweet dreams my Bella." He said in a voice so very foreign to his own. One which felt unnatural to hear even to his own ears. He swept out the room almost as quickly as he had entered.

Maybe it wasn't love. No he didn't love, he couldn't. But this fondness for her surpassed like. Or ownership. He would never admit it. Because that would make this weakness real. This would make him like one of those heathens like the muggle loving Dumbledore. And he couldn't have that. But there was still something there keeping him from destroying her. No matter how she failed him there was something keeping her there close to him. Something that kept him from killing her like anyone else who fell below standards. No this fondness kept her close, it was her saving grace. It was also his weakness.


End file.
